


every road you take will always lead you home

by wethethousands (atlantisairlock)



Category: The Martian (2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Happy Ending, Outer Space, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/wethethousands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after god-knows-how-many sols he spends on mars - watney's got to say it's a blessing for the first face he sees to be his favourite one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every road you take will always lead you home

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'see you again' by charlie puth.

After god-knows-how-many sols he spends on Mars - Watney's got to say, it's a blessing for the first face he sees to be his favourite one. There's a moment of sheer panic and desperation when he doesn't catch hold of Lewis' hand, when he's scrabbling for a grip on the ropes, and a shot of pure adrenaline as he catches hold, because he  _can't_ do this again. He's so close to being home, so close to being  _back,_ and he's held on this long, but the idea of being lost in the endless depths of space for the rest of his tragically short life is unthinkable. Not after everything. Not after Pathfinder, not after the potatoes, not after abandoning the rover.

Lewis reels him in like a fish on the hook, gets closer and closer, and when they finally touch each other, it's almost electric. A good ninety percent of it stems from the sudden exhilaration that blossoms deep inside him, copper clinging to his mouth, but the rest is just relief. When he looks at her, it's like he's settled, as if he's back on Earth. He can see her crying, her smile huge and bright and real.

"I've got him! I've got him," and the rest of the crew is cheering, four people back in the Hermes - Watney closes his eyes and wonders how many people back on Earth are doing the same thing. They can't say everything they want to say to each other while they're all hooked up on the same comm link, but the shine in Lewis' eyes is enough for Watney as Beck pulls both of them in. She clings on tight to him, like she's afraid she's going to lose him again, and he bumps his faceplate lightly against hers - a gesture of reassurance, a benediction.

When he gets back into the Hermes, the crew swarms up to him in zero-g and after more than a year of isolation, there's so much noise, so much light, so much colour, and not for the first time, Watney wonders how he managed to survive without  _this._

Then Martinez nudges him and tells him they're having potatoes on the side for dinner, and Watney just  _laughs,_ it's such a good feeling, and it's going to be another long, long ride before they finally get to plant their feet on solid ground and eat something that doesn't come out of a packet, but...

He looks into Lewis' eyes, and it's like a surge of something resembling peace.

He's home.

 

 

That night, he has his first shower in over six months. He gorges himself on a full dinner and discreetly puts his potatoes onto Vogel's serving. Lewis meets him in the bunk while the crew do their own tasks, and they just hold each other for a long, quiet moment.

"I'm sorry I left you behind," Lewis whispers, the first thing she says to him, and he shakes his head. "It wasn't your fault."

He's stressed that before, but he knows it must mean something different when she hears him say it, right in front of her, when she can actually see him, hear him, touch him. He cracks a smile, brushes his knuckles against her cheek. "You know, I really, really hate disco."

And Lewis bursts out laughing, crying, pulls him into a tight hug. "I can't lose you again," she says, and this is why Watney has never, for a moment, for all the jokes he made, held anything against the crew, or against her - because he knows if it had been him, if he had been standing at the ladder looking out into the storm trying to search for her while all the comms were flashing LOS; if it had been him, having to choose the crew over the person he loved most, in the spacecraft heading away from Mars with one empty seat, it would have opened a crevasse in him he could never seal. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises, and he means it.

In the middle of nothing and nowhere, framed by a backdrop of ceaseless night and unblinking stars, he kisses her; in the middle of nothing and nowhere, framed by a backdrop of ceaseless night and unblinking stars, Watney finds himself again. 


End file.
